


Future Imperfect

by Zippit



Series: gameofcards prompts [3]
Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Ep 8 - You Are the Heart, Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/pseuds/Zippit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fight with Angus about Truvada and everything else, Mario needs a moment to himself and away from everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Imperfect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "zoom" for a [team_spades](http://team_spades.livejournal.com) only battle between phases 6 and 7 of [gameofcards](http://gameofcards.livejournal.com).

_I remember, I remember, I remember._

Mario can’t get the words out of his head. He can’t get Ted out of his head. His stethoscope’s clutched tight in one hand. He really should not be doing that. Familiar blue scrubs cover him from head to toe. It used to feel like armor. Now all it feels like is a prison. It’s been a long night. A busy code black and a fucked mess of sticking himself.

It’s second nature, old habit, to find places to hide away. The rooftop was too easy. Everyone and their mother would wind up there. Stairwells are convenient. No one ever uses them anymore and after that thing with Angus that’s where Mario seeks refuge. Back against the wall in the landing’s corner, head pressed against his knees as he sits on the floor. If he could, he’d walk out right now but it’s the middle of a shift that won’t ever end.

His objectivity’s already shot and all he can think about is how he doesn’t want to be Ted in ten years. He doesn’t want to be lost and lonely. He wants to matter to someone and have someone in his life that cares. He doesn’t know the first place to start.

He’s a fuck up. He’s well aware of that. Today only reinforced that. Covering the only way he knew how and he knows he meant to get caught. It’s why he used Angus’ number anyway. He wanted something he can’t name. It’s why Angus’ words echo in his head. They hit too close to home. The only kind of friends he’s had usually needed something and it didn’t matter. His life never stayed constant enough for him to ever trust anyone.

Making it doesn’t usually involve friends. Not in any way that won’t end with him not getting hurt. He learned that the hard way. It’s easier, less complicated, to watch out solely for himself. The tread of footsteps working their way down the staircase has Mario up on his feet in an instant, leaned back against the wall with his cell open and pressed against his ear.

The steps stop and he glances over to see who it is. It’s Angus. Of course it is. Dressed in the same unflattering blue scrubs he is, their eyes lock for a moment then Mario shifts his gaze to Angus’ shoes. He’s got an arm resting on the twist in the railing with his weight settled onto one foot more than the other. He’s settled in for a long conversation. One Mario doesn’t want to have if he can help it. He nods then says “talk to you later” into the dead phone. He shoves it in a pocket then hooks his stethoscope around his neck and crosses his arms before looking at Angus.

There’s silence. Mario should say something but there’s still uncontrolled memories floating through him that’s only making this harder. He should fix this. Otherwise, he’s pretty sure he’s going to go back to being the universally hated resident around here. It’s not that he can’t do his job that way. He just gets less bullshit thrown at him.

“I heard about Ted,” Angus says. Breaking first because he is the better man between the two of them. Mario’s under no illusions about that. If it’d been him in Angus’ place, he’d have delighted and wrung every misfortune of his to the fullest extent. It wouldn’t have been simple words and anger.

He shrugs and bites his lip. “It sucks. He had a lot more life to live.” That barely even covers it. Mario’s affected and he swore to himself a long time ago he wouldn’t let that happen again. When he’d finally pulled himself out of the hellhole his life had been before. Letting things affect him was only going two steps back.

The echoing quiet of the stairwell used to be comforting. Until he’s forced to share it with someone. It grates against his skin and makes him bounce his leg. The jiggle of the pens in his pockets ticking against each other is entirely too noticeable.

“Mario, look, about before….” Angus steps a little closer, hands tucked into his pockets. Mario tries to cut him off with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry. But I meant what I said. Doing a little more talking would help your sorry ass out.”

He can’t help the snort. A smirk breaks out across Angus’ face and there’s a gleam in his eyes. “See, even you agree with it.”

“There a reason you came to find me?” Mario tries to find that even tone to his voice again. The one where he’s pretending everything’s fine and everyone’s buying it. Instead of the low simmering anger and emptiness he’d been carrying around all day. He doesn’t think he manages it from the way Angus’ eyebrows go up and the lines around his mouth grow clearer.

“We’re needed back at Center Stage. Things are crazy again.”

He’s surprised Angus went along with it. Not pushing the issue doesn’t seem like a thing he does when he decides you’re not just a worthless, selfish asshole. He walks past Angus to head back upstairs and stops when a hand rests on his shoulder. It gives a squeeze and Mario actually lets it rest there, lets himself pause to take comfort in it, before he continues up the stairs. Angus a slow tread behind him.


End file.
